This blog is (mostly) a near-verbatim transcription of my writing journal. Margins are the same as the journal. These are exercises, not finished products. Other types of writings will most likely emerge at some point.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

To a Spurious Memory

I sit, to pick the memory apart –it stares at me with a wrinkled heart:yellow-strawed lofts and green summer scentsattack my withered countenance.A pair of smiling faces, images of blissunfold out of a hike, a ride, a mother’s kiss.I hear a sound, a river’s gurgling song –children’s voices laughing pleasantly along.Like color and taste, I have no firm measureof comparing this vision of distant pleasurewith reality. I must admit adorned perceptiona stage of unacknowledged self-conception,and store the memory in a mindful placethat only I can touch, and taste.